#498 Perfectly flawed
Maybe, when you take away the flaws, the whole fabric disintegrates.
Maybe we’re perfectly flawed.
Maybe, when you take away the flaws, the whole fabric disintegrates.
Maybe we’re perfectly flawed.
First, you practice doing the process every day – because if you don’t do the process consistently, you’ll never move towards an outcome in the first place. Tiny Trust Builders always come first.
Then, you practice becoming good at the process – because the better you are at the process, the more likely you’ll reach an outcome.
But, unfortunately, even if you become excellent at the process, you still won’t be able to predict an exact outcome.
Outcomes are fickle.
Even progress is fickle.
But the process is predictable.
And who knows, maybe the process IS the outcome.
The meaning of your life is not in the goals you crave.
It’s not in the results you chase.
Nor is it in the habits you create.
The meaning is in what you do in this very moment.
And the next moment.
And the one after that.
The meaning is in your collection of actions. In your collection of decisions. In your collection of present moments. Wherever they take you.
When chasing fame leads to your own kids not remembering your name.
When chasing love leads to fear of being alone.
When chasing success leads to loneliness.
It may be necessary.
It may be good.
It may be worth it.
As long as you’re aware there’s always a sacrifice to make.
If only someone told you before
That no matter how loud the others shout
Nobody has it figured out
If only someone told you before
That the rules you use to govern your life
Aren’t set in stone?
If only someone told you before
That it’s totally okay
To find your own way
If only someone told you before…
Question: Do you know how old I’ll be by the time I learn to play the piano?
Answer: The same age you will be if you don’t.
Julia Cameron, The Artist’s Way
Some skills take years of practice before I’m any good at them. But I’m living those years anyway. And while society and systemic pressure might push me down a certain path, I still have a say in how I spend every day.
Whether I publish a blog post today or not, I’ll go to bed tonight and the sun will still come up tomorrow.
Whether I write every day in the coming 10 years or not, in 10 years I’ll still turn 40.
The only difference: will I feel that my actions were aligned with who I want to be? Or will I feel regret instead?
Some aspirations are worth the time you’re living anyway.
You write today. You run today. You do yoga today. You reach out to friends today.
Because one day, when the going gets tough, you’ll be happy you have a writing habit to express ideas and feelings.
You’ll be happy you’re in shape enough to run.
You’ll be happy to know your body well enough to move freely.
And you’ll be happy you have friends.